


The horror of the night

by prinz_charlie



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, F/F, TW Hospital, i'm so sorry for writing this blame it on my brain, tw MAJOR character death, tw blood, tw death, tw nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prinz_charlie/pseuds/prinz_charlie
Summary: It was the only kind of darkness Carmilla feared. The unknown one.
Relationships: Laura Hollis/Carmilla Karnstein
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	The horror of the night

**Author's Note:**

> tw: blood, major character death, nightmares, hospital

Carmilla was stalemated by stifling darkness. Her feet were tied to the ground, and a ringing screeched in her ear, madly forcing itself a way into her brain. She looked around, in search of a way to escape, but was met with more darkness. It wasn’t just the usual darkness. The darkness that just took your sight from you. No, it was the kind of darkness, that enveloped you; shut off every sound; sucked the air from your lungs. It was the kind of darkness that grew more dangerous and dreadful with every move you made in an attempt to flee. It was the kind of darkness that formed hands of shadows that held you in place, and drilled into you, reaching for _something_. By the time they’d rip your organs apart inside of you, causing your body to overflow with your own blood and in the end flood your lungs and cause you to suffocate helplessly – by the time, they would enclose your heart and tear it apart - it’d be too late. It was the only kind of darkness Carmilla feared.

The unknown one.

She contorted herself under an invisible force.

The ringing in her brain got louder, suddenly turned into a voice.

“Oh, darling.” The feigned care in her voice immediately made shivers crawl up Carmilla’s spine and her mind was flooded with pictures of the woman the voice belonged to. With all the things she had done to her that had shaped her and turned her into the person, she was today. “Why would you hope for someone to come help you? Haven’t I taught you not to hope?”

An axon in Carmilla’s brain snapped and her knees buckled. Unavoidably she landed on the floor. The darkness grew thicker. Her limbs suddenly grew weak. She pressed her eyes shut, as a pearly-white, bright light that could only descend from Lofi, the giant anglerfish that had once threatened to kill so many innocent students, blinded her.

And then everything stopped.

The ringing. The light. The memories.

The muscles of her upper arm supporting her torso contracted under the pressure and Carmilla forced her eyes open. She squinted and blinked rapidly at the sudden light. Forced her eyes open. She immediately recognized the wooden floor she lay eyes on. It was the one in the living room of the apartment Laura and she shared. She was met with a pair of trainers. Laura’s trainers. Something appeared under the palm of her hand.

Carmilla looked up, saw Laura beaming at her.

She pushed herself up. Instinctively opened the little box in her hand. Smiled involuntarily. The question fell from her lips without her control. 

And Laura nodded.

And the smile on Carmilla’s lips grew.

She flung her arms around Laura's neck and breathed in her vanilla-scented shampoo. Felt her soft hair tickle her bare arms and felt the bra straps under Laura’s white blouse and felt Laura beaming into her shoulder. Her _fiancée_ beaming into her shoulder.

But suddenly the fabric of Laura’s shirt started to change. Frowning Carmilla tried to open her eyes, but they were sealed shut. She felt panic bubbling in her stomach, only waiting to rise and find a way out. Laura’s arms tightened around Carmilla’s torso. Carmilla tried to lift her cheek from Laura’s shoulder but it was stuck. The panic continued to bubble, higher and higher, threatening to rise and break something loose that would be completely out of her control. She fought harder, but Laura’s arms closed tighter around her. The journalist’s hair stopped tickling Carmilla's arms. She grew more and more concerned with every second. An unsettling feeling settled in her stomach, where the panic rose.

Using all her strength Carmilla threw herself back and tore her head loose from Laura's shoulder. She looked up. A look of terror spread on her face. Laura’s face was blood smeared. She was looking straight ahead, her eyes hollow and blank. Her arms went limp - hung from her sides. And Laura collapsed to the ground.

Carmilla stumbled back and stared at her in shock. Laura was lying in a puddle of blood. Blood that was everywhere, and threatened to drown her any second!

Instantly Carmilla fell to her knees and gathered Laura's head in her hands. “Laura”, she whispered hurriedly. Her voice broke. “Laura, Cupcake, wake up. Wake up!” Her voice grew louder with every said word. She turned her head, searching for someone – anyone – to help them. But the room was empty. Empty except for chairs that were meant for guests of the wedding. The wedding that Carmilla knew was never going to happen. She let Laura’s head down, and jumped to her feet, spinning around.

She had never been one to call for help. She had never been weak! But this was about Laura. This was about Laura lying on the floor, bleeding out and dying!

“Please!”, she called desperately.

In a panic she spun back around.

And she was met with the sight of Laura in a lavender wedding dress, her hair easily dancing around her shoulders, like it was everything it was made for. The puddle had disappeared from the floor.

Carmilla stared at her in shock, then looked down at herself. She was wearing a dress herself. A crimson dress that she seemed to drown in.

“Carm…”, Laura started, her voice the same voice Carmilla could listen to day and night and could make her melt in an instant. “I can’t believe that we’re actually getting married. And that this day is _actually_ happening.” Laura hesitated for a second. “Which is really crazy, considering that we started out hating each other and you were nothing more than my obnoxious, broody, prissy roommate whose hair constantly clogged up the shower drain which it still does if we’re being honest but…”

“Laura”, Carmilla interrupted her. “How are you…? You were…”

Laura blinked. Confused? Angrily? Perplexed? She shook her head and turned to the empty chairs, staring at a point far away. And she opened her mouth. And she continued saying her vows. No. A _voice_ continued saying her vows. Lilita Morgan’s voice.

Carmilla stumbled back.

“Laura”, she said, her voice shaking.

In the next moment an axon in her brain snapped again. Carmilla fell to her knees. And fell. And fell. And fell with no control, watching as Laura – Lilita – said her vows. Vows that no one would ever get to hear.

“I told you”, Lilita’s benevolent voice echoed in her head. “You’re bound to lose, child.”

Carmilla let out a scream. A horrible, desperate scream and she hit the ground. Something familiar tickled at her legs. She was still wearing the crimson dress. It clung to her, wound itself around her legs, and trapped her. She felt something drip on her nose. Something viscous.

Blood.

She was being drowned in blood and buried in a coffin again. The voice of her mother was echoing in her head.

Helpless. 

Petrified.

Laura lost somewhere.

Alone.

Carmilla shot up from the nightmare, looking around disoriented. Cold sweat was rolling down her forehead. The images of the nightmare replayed in her head. Distressed she wiped phantom blood from her arms, the sickening ironlike scent stuck in her nose. Slowly, her mind calmed down, reminded her that it had all been a dream and that she wasn’t alone. That everything was fine. That she was safe. That her mother wasn’t going to hurt her, and that she was in her and Laura’s apartment and that things were _fine_.

Her limbs shaking, she sunk back into the cushions. Swallowed hard. Put her hands on her face and massaged her temples. Let them limply sink to her sides again.

She was weak. So weak, for having to encourage herself with false bravery, so she wouldn’t fall apart. So weak.

She needed help.

Needed Laura to hold her and tell her that it was going to be ok, while she curled into a ball that was just the shell of herself and didn’t care because she was with Laura and Laura was _Laura_. She just needed someone to tell her that she was fine. That she was allowed to be weak.

She turned her head and longingly reached for her, so she could bury her head in the crook of Laura's neck and inhale the familiar smell of her vanilla-scented shampoo and feel whole again.

But Carmilla was met with excruciating nothingness.

The empty side of the bed.

The empty side of the bed she dreaded so, so much.

The empty side of the bed that would swallow her sooner or later.

She fell back into her cushions, the blanket heavily weighing down on her. The suddenly all too apparent coldness of the empty side crawling over her already cold skin.

She was gone.

Laura was gone.

She had witnessed it all. Laura riding the bike in front of her, Carmilla pedaling only feet after her, complaining about why they hadn’t just taken the bus. Saying “You’re killing me, Hollis”, in response to Laura shaking her complaints off with an eye-roll and laugh. Laura turning the corner. The sudden screeching of tires and someone slamming on the brake. A bike being hurled yards across the air.

A still body lying on the concrete.

Blood. So much blood.

And Carmilla right behind her. Paralyzed from shock. Watching her lie there. Still.

She had found herself dashing across the street, falling to her knees next to her. Stuttered “Laura” and “Laura please” and “Cupcake, can you hear me?” and “Cupcake, please, answer me”. Held Laura’s hand throughout the whole ride to the hospital. Whispered, “Come on, Laura, I know you can do this” and pushed strands of hair out of her bloody face and muttered, “You’re going to be fine" and "You’ll get through this, you’re you, you _have_ to get through this” and trailed up and down the hospital isles and crossed her arms in front of her chest to somehow hold herself together, while LaF and Perry exchanged worried mutters. Felt her heart drop to her stomach when after days of waiting, a doctor finally approached her.

Stumbled to the hospital room.

Saw her.

She saw her lifeless body, heard the room being filled with constant beeping noises that would stop in only minutes. She crouched down next to her, the doctor had left. Shaking Carmilla softly took her hand, enclosed it. She pressed her forehead into the mattress, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She didn’t say anything. The words had been sucked from her lungs, had been compressed, and had eventually exploded. Just like Carmilla’s innermost part.

“I thought you were going to be fine, cupcake”, she pressed out weakly, dragging her upper body up. Always trying to stay composed. “You always were.”

She let her gaze wander over the journalist’s body. The so fragile journalist’s body. Her legs, bruises over bruises covering them. Her torso covered by the hospital gown. A range of tubes leading from her arms to machines keeping her alive. Carmilla's gaze wandered further. Another tube leading from Laura’s nose to another machine. Carmilla’s gaze lingered at her face. Laura’s face. Laura’s oh so perfect, little, suddenly way too fragile face. She couldn’t tear her gaze loose. The doctors had wrapped a bandage around Laura’s head, to stop her forehead from bleeding. Other than that, she looked whole, not like she had been patched up by numerous surgeries and was still lying in a coma.

So peaceful. Like she’d wake up any moment and wish Carmilla a good morning and ask her what she wanted for breakfast. Like Carmilla would respond with a sigh and say “Cupcake, you know I don’t eat breakfast” and Laura would poke her and say something along the lines of “Well, you should, Carm” and they’d cuddle and kiss and things would be _normal_.

But nothing of that happened.

Not a single word fell from Carmilla’s lips.

Instead she stared at Laura. Trembling she lifted Laura’s hand and blew a soft kiss to it. She carefully let it down again, and moved to Laura’s forehead, pressed a soft kiss to it. She lingered right there for a few seconds, staring at Laura’s closed eyes, hoping against all hope that they would open one last time if only for Carmilla being able to tell Laura that she loved her.

But they didn’t.

Suppressing another tear Carmilla pressed her eyes shut.

“I love you, Laura”, she whispered. And she leaned back. And she let go of her hand.

The plug was pulled. The side of the bed was empty.

Was still empty.

Carmilla was alone. Alone in her thoughts and fear and longing for her girlfriend’s warm arms. Alone in longing for her girlfriend.

For Laura.

She just wanted her back.

Wanted to hold her and kiss her and hug her. Wanted to stay up all night talking even though they should’ve already run out of things to say but still didn’t grow tired of each other. She wanted Laura to be safe. But her mother had been right. She was bound to lose.

She wanted to hold Laura's hand and never let go.

But instead the side of the bed was empty.

Hollow.

**Author's Note:**

> welllll, so, yeah. thanks for reading!


End file.
